Evolution in Changelings
by Dubtrot Pete
Summary: A Changeling ambush goes horribly wrong - for the Changeling. Now, he must try and adapt to the society of ponies around him, but also maintain his secret? Can he do it? Rating may change. I tried making this different from standard 'integration' Changeling fanfics, and it will develop more and more, hopefully into something beautifully unique. RD to be added soon,
1. Chapter 1

**Changeling**

**Hey guys! Had a good day? I had another story going, but that was highly experimental and, to put it bluntly, I got a bit of hate for having 'homosexual ponies'. People these days - but that means I won't be carrying on with that story :( So I decided to go with another idea of mine, this time not a romance - please comment on how I can improve! This is based on completely different ideas that most people have on Changelings, so be prepared.**

**Also, if you have an OC that A) looks good and B) would fit in as a cheery, laid-back pony, then please do PM me if you want him/her in this story! Thank you!**

**Edit 1: With thanks to BlackRoseRaven, who helped edit this story and will hopefully continue to do so!**

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The Changelings flew down with thunderbolt precision and coordination. They accelerated like peregrine falcons towards their targets: a small group of adventurers and explorers on the outskirts of the forest, near the hive. The Changelings locked onto their individual targets and copied the coats onto theirs; not for hiding their identity, but merely to distract and confuse them during the initial fighting.

Their squadron leader was the first to take the final step in their dive, heading straight for the biggest pony of the adventurers' pack - a burly Unicorn with a dirty white coat and a brown and blue mane. The rest of the squadron followed suit with the leader, diving towards various other ponies in the group. The final Changeling, the skinniest, smallest one, dived last and towards the rearmost pony - a reddish bown Pegasus stallion with a white mane that greyed at the edges.

About twelve seconds before the squadron of insectoids landed, the lead pony looked up to the sky and saw... _himself_? The Unicorn froze there, confused. Only when the Pegasus looked up did they react. "Changelings!" Shouted the pony at the rear, "Get to cover! Flank their, er, flanks!" The ponies dived or glided their ways into the bushes and trees that populated the borders of the path. In an instant, they seemed to disappear. The 'surprise attack' was more of a surprise for the Changelings, who were not greeted as they turned their dive to a landing one by one.

That was, apart from the small Changeling, who landed awkwardly and in a desperate attempt to regain balance, stumbled... right into the brown Pegasus! "Buck!" Shouted the Pegasus, right into the insectoid's face. "Ponies! Attack!"

The ponies of various colours leapt out and attacked their clones with whatever they could: sticks, hooves, teeth. The small Changeling looked at the scene in confusion. _Well, that backfired_. It turned its head back towards the brown Pegasus it was imitating, just in time to get an eyefull of of hoof.

The Changeling was out cold, and the other ambushers took that as a cue to 'get the hay out.' They left as soon as they could - flying straight up and away - without their small companion. The brown Pegasus tried following, but was summoned back with a quick command: "Cinnamon! Get the hay back here before I buckin' kill your flank!"

The Pegasus landed gracefully on his hooves. "Sorry, jus' felt like giving chas-"

The Unicorn snapped a sharp reply. "I don't care Cinnamon! Don't go getting yourself killed over your own coltish behaviour! What would your mother say – she'd be rolling in her grave. Bless her soul!"

The brown pony crumbled. "Sorry, Uncle." He glanced over at the Changeling, watching as it slowly regained its original form. It was a lighter grey, arguably white, with blood red eyes, rather unlike the charred black and cyan of the standard Changeling, and it was slightly smaller. "What are we going to do with it?"

His apparent uncle moved towards the unconscious thing, and poked it with a hoof. "Well, we didn't find any manticores or cockatrices, I guess we could try and sell a Changeling to some scientist pony or something."

* * *

It was some time later before the strangely hued insectoid awoke, its hooves tied to a wooden pole that was being carried by two ponies, like how someone might be carried to a fire to be eaten. He panicked and started rocking side to side in a futile attempt to escape, and received a hind hoof in the side for it. "Stop moving, shifter-pony," said Cinnamon.

Uncle shook his head. "Changelings aren't related to ponies, the similarities are coincidental."

The stubborn stallion spoke up again. "They have hooves, a horn, wings; these are all things some ponies have."

Before the older pony could speak, one of the carrier ponies spoke up. "If they're ponies, is it really all right to sell it?" This made them all stop in their tracks, and made the carrier pony feel awkward. "Jus' sayin'…"

The other carrier pony also spoke up. "If it is classed as a pony, would it still be legal to sell it?" This produced even more awkward, questioning looks - _there's no point if there's no money_. "Can we... test its 'pony-ness'?"

Uncle shrugged and walked over to the Changeling, who had been listening the entire time. "We can try." He turned his attention to the insectoid. "Got a name then, Changeling?" It shook its head. "See? If it doesn't have a name, then it isn't a pony. Carry on walking."

He was about to enter a full trot when Cinnamon interjected. "Oh no no no, that's not enough – foals don't have names, and if it does count as a pony then we all go to Canterlot for a nice tour of the dungeons, something none of us want. Besides, can it even talk?"

This time, the older pony and the younger Pegasus were both interrupted; by the Changeling. "Yes, I can talk. And to answer your questions, scientifically and legally I am not a pony. However, selling me on the market would be illegal as I could be classed as a 'weapon'." Every pony looked with astonishment at him, and he shrugged (best he could, being tied to a pole and all) and mumbled, "We feed off of emotion, we learn stuff sometimes."

There was an awkward silence, broken by Uncle's hard voice. "Right, cut him loose." He turned to the newly-decided pony. "You're not worth the hassle, fly back to your nest or hive or whatnot."

The Changeling shook his head after being cut loose and landing hooves-first. "I've been gone too long, they'll think I'm some Changeling from another Hive trying to enter as me, and it's not like my unique appearance matters amongst Changelings, we can copy each other as well."

The old stallion turned and walked away with the two former carrying ponies, and shouted behind him, "Not my problem, bug." The Changeling sat down and dropped his head low, looking at the ground pathetically.

"What in the hay are you doing?" Queried Cinnamon, who had yet to leave.

The insectoid mumbled; "Waiting for something to come along and kill me, or eat me. Preferably in that order."

"Well, that's a bit pessimistic."

"Changelings cannot live without a hive, we rely on strength in numbers to find our emotions to feast on."

The brown Pegasus thought for a moment, hoof on chin. "Listen, this'll sound craz-"

He was interrupted by the older stallion, shouting from the horizon: "Shattup, you mule and get your ass over here!"

"Er, in a moment!" Cinnamon hollered to Uncle. He returned talking to the insect. "Disguise yourself as a pony - anypony - slip into Coltsdale, you know where that is? Good, just near here. Go to the tavern at the edge of the village, walk up to the bar and ask to see Cinnamon immediately - that's me, and we'll sort something out, haven't had time to think but I gotta go so goodbye!"

Before the Changeling had time to object, the brown stallion flew off at lightning speed towards the ponies slowly growing smaller in the horizon. The Changeling morphed into a light blue Pegasus mare with short magenta hair and a lightning cloud for a cutie mark. _Fairly ambiguous without being too ambiguous to attract attention_, it thought.

It - or rather, she - flew slowly into the forest, taking the long way around towards Coltsdale, the small village at the border of Equestria. It was a strange request from a pony who carried himself as being rather rude. It was like he wanted to - to _help_. The possibility occurred to the Changeling, _what if it's a trap_? _Well if it is, I'll have to wait and see. Only time will tell._

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**Thank you so much for reading! I hoped you enjoyed and please, please, PLEASE review, it really makes a difference for me. I know it's not a typical image for a Changeling, and some things (like the fact he's white, and that he can talk, and that he says he feeds off of emotion rather than love etc will be explained within the next few chapters. Unless no one reads this, ofc :(**


	2. Chapter 2

**Changeling**

**Hey guys! Sorry this took so long, but I haven't been particularly organised recently. This chapter is hopefully a lot more clear and has far better pacing!**

**With thanks to BlackRoseRaven for god-like editting. Any flaws are my fault and not his, be more than happy to point problems out!**

* * *

Gliding between the trees, the small body of the disguised Changeling - in the shape of a Pegasus mare - needed to contribute little effort: the forest was not dense and the snarly branches were few and far between.

It finally reached the clearing at the edge of the forest, and Coltsdale. Thankfully for it, the tavern Cinnamon had described in his rushed attempt to help was at the close edge of the thatched roof village. She (as it was a she, now) made her way towards the tavern, trying her best not to look like she was trotting gingerly. Her attempts were unneeded. As it was night, she saw very few ponies, save the ones that stumbled in and out of the tavern, either wanting more cider or risking their lives trying to keep it down.

She opened the door to be welcomed by a surprisingly homely, calm tavern. It was in no way quiet or peaceful, but it was hardly rowdy or destructive. The disguised Changeling made her way to the bar, and sat herself awkwardly on the - once again, surprisingly - comfortable barstool. The bar pony was a rather muscular dark blue Pegasus with a night black, scruffy mane. Certainly a pony to fear down a dark alley, but in the warm and embracing firelight, along with his smooth voice, he seemed like an all right kind of pony. "Can I get you a drink?"

It took the Changeling a few moments to realise it was being talked to _as a pony_! "Er, no thank you. I'm looking for er, Cinnamon?" The Changeling-Pegasus asked, rather unsure in herself.

The bar pony roared a cheerful laugh, the kind a pony would want to join in with, for no reason. She almost did. "He's upstairs, second room on the left and close the door behind you - only ponies that work here are really allowed up there." The bar pony chuckled, "Cinnamon might actually get lucky tonight..."

The Changeling, unsure of what to make of this, just wriggled in her seat and muttered a small 'thank you' before leaving as quickly as possible for the wooden door basked in firelight toward the corner of the tavern. She quickly opened it and slammed it behind her, before ascending the short flight of stairs and approaching the specified door, and swinging it open with a quick flick of a hoof.

The reddish brown Pegasus nearly leapt out of his seat at the mare. "Are you..?" He cut his sentence short.

The Changeling closed the door behind her with a rear hoof, and returned to its pale self. "Yes."

Cinnamon sighed, relieved. "Good." He pulled out a stool and then resumed sitting on his chair. "Have a seat." The Changeling, completely ignoring the stool in front of it, sat down where she stood. "Er, okay..."

There was a tense quiet, until finally the Changeling mare broke the silence. "Why did you request that I come here?" _It doesn't really seem like the kind of thing a monster hunting pony would do..._

The stallion replied quickly: "You seemed like you needed help, and you don't seem like a bad pony-" _There it was again, 'pony'_ "-and I'm not a bad person because I take monsters, I could be a force of good looking at it in a way, and besides; it runs in my blood." He swivelled on his chair slightly so it could see his cutie mark, a sword diving into a mug of Cider. "I've always loved adventure since I was a little kid, and this cutie mark was earned through trapping this Timber Wolf pup outside my school - doesn't it just scream adventurer?"

The Changeling shrugged. "Seems more to me like 'Violent Alcoholic', but you can be an adventurer if you want."

The dark crimson pony stared at the insectoid for a few seconds. "Er, yeah. Anyway, how do you know so much about ponies? You can't of learned everything from, well, eating peoples' love."

The Changeling shook its head. "We don't 'eat love'. We can use any emotion to feed ourselves, love is just the nicest tasting - like smooth sugar. Then it goes down, happiness; moodiness; anger; confusion; upset; despair." The insectoid paused. "Also, the hive has an old pony library underneath it and I was really the only Changeling to go down there, so I know more than most about ponies."

The Pegasus nodded his head, and was about to comment when they both heard a feminine pony voice: "Cinnamon, you busy?"

"Buck!" He murmured, then snapped quietly at the Changeling: "Go pony mode, quickly!" The insectoid quickly changed to its former disguise of the blue Pegasus mare, and shuffled up onto the stool. "Yeah, Ginge, lil' bit. Another time?" He said, voice heightened.

The mare, completely ignoring his statement, burst in. "Hey bro I need to borro-" The mare looked down, and the disguised Changeling looked up, their snouts almost touching as they examined each other. The mare was an earth pony, coated in bright orange and with a mane and tail that were only slightly paler, but were curly and wavy. Her eyes were a spectacle of brilliant ruby red that shone like a setting sun over an ocean horizon.

The lengthy stare was shattered with a 'hmph' from the other pony as she walked out and slammed the door on Cinnamon's sentence. "Ginger, wai-" He sighed and facehoofed. "That filly…" He turned to the disguised Changeling. "She's my step sister, don't mind her. Anyway… surely you aren't you the only one that spends time in the library?"

The Changeling remained in her disguise and still stayed mounted on the stool, in a more relaxed manner now that the imposing pony had gone. "I'm not particularly liked amongst Changelings, being an albino and al-"

"Oh, that's why you're white? Why does your appearance matter anyway, surely you could just turn into a nor-er, black Changeling?"

The imposter mare nodded. "Yes, but that's frowned upon inside the hive. That, along with being an Omega means that any chance of returning to the hive was thrown out of the window when I didn't return with my squadron."

Cinnamon paused for a moment. "Omega? Like wolves?"

Once again she nodded. "You ponies really have no idea how complex our hive-pack-monarchy structure is. Too complicated to explain now, so don't even ask." They both sat there quietly. Another long, awkward silence lasted what felt like…_what, five hours_? "So, how do you intend to help me? This was your idea, after all."

The brown pony shrugged. "I honestly have no clue, but I couldn't leave you there in that state. You can sleep here tonight, do you ponies-never mind, just stay in the room at the far end of the corridor, right side. Stay disguised as-" He took in the mare's body, "-her." With that, the mimicked pony walked out the room and closed the door gently behind her.

* * *

After a short while of staring at the door, Cinnamon was about to return to his work when the door opened yet again. "So…Cinnamon Dust, who was that?"

"Ugh, buck off Ginger Nut, I'm not in the mood for talking." He said sternly.

"You're not in the mood? You seemed to be talking to her quite a lot."

"Because she's not as annoying as you are, step sis."

"Yeah, well, at least I don't let strangers into our house."

"Ginge, our house is a tavern, it's full of strangers every night."

"Not the upper floor, that's for family and Storm Chaser only!"

He sighed, exasperated. "Ginge, don-"

She interjected swiftly and brutally, not containing her voice or withholding her noise. "No, no, no! You're not gonna 'Ginge' me! Listen, Dusty-"

He snapped. "Don't call me Dusty! And this house is for who I bloody well want it to be for, Ginger Nut!" He shouted. "Apart from Uncle, I'm the only one who owns this damn place! And is he here? NO! So shut your bloody jealous mouth and get out of my room before I kick you out!" His face was red in anger. Hers was red in embarrassment. "Upstairs isn't for family, it isn't even for employees - Storm Chaser works for the weather team, he only covers as a bar pony part time, you know that! It's for who I bloody well want it to be! Storm Chaser's allowed upstairs because he's my friend! That mare's my friend so she's allowed up here as well; no bloody questions, got it?!"

"I ain't jeal-"

"I don't care, lil' sis. Shut up and get out of my room, before I get more angry or you look more stupid."

With that, as well as a few tears in her eyes, she left the room, knowing arguing would be futile. "Yes, boss." She only called him 'boss' when she was upset.

He calmed down, and leaned back on his chair. _Perhaps I was a little too harsh; maybe I'd better say sorry. Tomorrow. Or the next day. _He played with an empty cider mug while he thought. _I hope she doesn't tell Uncle or Raisin Rum, that'd cause hay._

He got up and traversed to his bed (on the tips of his hooves, as not to disturb Ginger's sulking), and slipped into the covers of the bed. _I hope this doesn't give me nightmares_.

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**Sup? Enjoy that? I hope so!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Changeling**

**Hey guys! New Chapter! Er, Yeah! Anyway, I changed 'Supernatural' to 'Family', just seems to make more sense to me. Various other elements are incorporated but I can only list two.**

**With thanks to BlackRoseRaven for his superb editing.**

* * *

Cinnamon was woken by the sound of gentle knocking at his door, and a rather hushed whisper: "Hey, bro, there's a mare in my bed. Not that I'd mind that or anything bu-"

He groaned. "Stop trying to be funn-" Cinnamon fell silent. _Mare, in his bed_? "Er, Rummy?"

The door swung open, and revealed a dark brown Pegasus that was speckled with small, black patches and an inverse-coloured mane. He was strong, but by no means as large as Storm Chaser. His stature and posture radiated a calm authority. The cutie mark on his flank, a spear and a bottle of rum in a cross, was similar to Cinnamon's. He was everything Cinnamon aspired to be.

The stallion proceeded to walk in. "'Sup, Dusty?" He queried jokingly.

Cinnamon rushed out of his bed to embrace his brother. He was nearly successful but, stumbling at the last second (being half asleep could be a pain in the flank), slumped into his brother's open limbs. "Raisin Rum! I haven't seen you in… in ages! I mean we've done letters and stuff bu-"

The muscular stallion laughed: it held a homely feeling like Chaser's, but was more subtle. "Calm down, little bro. You've got the energy of a school colt!" This earned him an exasperated, pained look from the smaller stallion. "Pfft, that doesn't work on me. Anyway, I haven't slept all night, so could you get the mare out of my bed? I thought she was Ginge's friend but she got in a huff when I mentioned-"

The younger pony groaned in dismay. "Great, she's still in a bad mood…" He broke from their embrace and took a step back.

The bad mood was almost heavy on the older stallion. "…Any problems, little bro?"

The sleepy stallion sat down with a thud like a grumpy filly. "Me and Ginge - Ginge and I, whatever, we got in a fight. She was a little, er, irked at the mare staying here for the night."

Raisin nodded. "Well, I guess I'll talk to her later. But bro, cheer up." There was a grumbling sound. "And catch some breakfast; your stomach sounds like a work horse, so eat something after getting the mare out of my bed."

The still sleepy small stallion grumbled and walked into the corridor and in front of his brother's room. Feigning a positive attitude, he called out: "Morning," _Buck, she doesn't have a fake name!_ "Er, Cloud Crash," _Better than nothing_, "Get up, my brother, well, kinda needs his room back."

* * *

_Huh_, though the Changeling, _I guess I'll use that name then_. "Er, okay. Let me freshen up first, thought."

She heard a muffled, grumpy grumble through the door. "Yeah, whatever, don't take too long or my brother'll try and send me to the moon."

She replied: "Okay! I'll be fast, I promise!" The mare looked at herself in the body-length mirror standing next to the bed. _If I'm going to be talking to ponies, I need a back story. And a more tamed mane…_ She ran a hoof through her scruffy bed mane. Slowly, she began styling it; pulling out loose hairs, ordering it, controlling and taming the magenta mess. Next, she preened her wings with her teeth, creating a practical yet beautiful pattern on either wing.

All this time, she was thinking of some lies. Changelings are used to the concept of needing to lie, but only spontaneously, and to one pony. _I'm going to need a complex story if I'm going to be here weeks, or even months! Right, where did I come from…_

She pondered for a bit, checking all the fake details over in her head. _Well, here goes nothing._ She trotted into the corridor and turned to see Ginger. _I think it's Ginger, anyway_.

* * *

Ginger pivoted and saw Cloud Crash making her way down the hallway: her mane was slick, her feathers preened with precision. "Hey, Ginger." The blue mare said in a soft, welcoming voice. "Sorry if I upset you yesterday."

Ginger feigned friendliness. "Oh, it's no problem! Hey, a little heads-up, you should probably style your mane, Cinnamon won't really appreciate the rough look."

The blue Pegasus stood where she was. "Well, actual-"

The orange pony continued: "And you should probably preen your wings as well, wouldn't want to look scruffy for my step-brother."

The Pegasus stood there in surprise. Ginger hadn't styled her mane or preened her wings, and that was probably obvious to her. "But you haven-"

Ginger raised her voice. "I'm about to do mine now. I'd lend you my make-up, but I don't have a lot to spare… Oh well!" And with that, the ginger mare trotted back into her room, slamming the door behind her.

* * *

Cloud Crash almost galloped back to Rum's room, smashing the door back into its frame with her hind legs. _That lying mare! Trying to call me ugly!_

She stared into the mirror, depression choking the anger inside her. _I mean, I can look how I want, so I can't be ugly…_ she wiped a hoof under one of her eyes. _Looks shouldn't matter to a Changeling, so why do they matter to me_? She wiped under the other eye.

_I guess I could make my flank bigger, or lengthen my mane…_ She thought about how she could change herself; make herself look 'better'. _No, I'll just prove to her I look good, shouldn't be too hard._

_After I re-preen my wings, of course._

* * *

Cinnamon played with his empty coffee mug anxiously while he waited for her. 'Cloud Crash': how in the hay did he think of a name as stupid as that? He sighed (a little too loudly), and hoped she could pull of any lies she had to make.

"Hey bro, still l'il ticked? You and Ginge never got along." Raisin Rum queried, a serious tone ripping through the usually cheery voice.

"Yeah, I guess. I just hope Ginger has the maturity to not pick on Crash. I don't see what her problem with her is!" He rolled his eyes. "Mares these days…"

The brother nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I get you Dusty…"

"Y'know how sexist that is, right?" Interrupted a feminine voice from the base of the stairs. Both stallions turned their heads towards the source of the noise. They were both surprised to see the light blue and magenta Pegasus, preened and coiffed with a slick style. _Drop dead buckin' gorgeous…_

"Any problems?" she said after a few seconds of them staring, as she trotted towards the coffee pot, moving with a slight elegance that she lacked when she first arrived. _She's either been practicing the past half hour, or sleep does wonders for her_.

Cinnamon received a rather violent elbow nudge in the ribs. "Hey what was that-!" He exclaimed loudly, before having Raisin shove his hoof in his mouth.

"Bro," the elder of the two muttered, hoping Crash wouldn't hear. "Your wings…"

Cinnamon (once the hoof had been removed) looked at his wings. _Ah, hay_. They were shot up and out completely and probably had been since he saw her. _That's buckin' weird, Dusty, she's a bug thing._

He put his wings in rapidly, and just in time: the Changeling in disguise walked over with a milky cup of coffee and sat down next to him. _A little too close…_ When he had the confidence to speak, his voice was hoarse, and he sounded like a foolish colt. "Hey, Crash, you're a little, er, close. Y'know personal space and all…"

She turned to face him, and their noses almost touched. There was a brief pause before a cheery: "Okay!" She shuffled the stool along slightly, so each pony occupied roughly a third.

"Thanks, Crash."

There was another pause, silence except for the morning birds, and the rather loud slurping of coffee from the mare, which was like screaming in his ears. He was about to say something, when she spoke first. "I ran into your sister in the upstairs corridor."

Cinnamon froze all motion. Raisin, worried but not as dramatic, spoke up. "She say much?"

"Oh, yeah."

"What'd you two talk about?"

Crash heightened her voice. "Oh, we didn't really talk that much," Cinnamon sighed, and Raisin looked confused. "It was her throwing some insults at me." She touched it gently. "She should have seen her mane…"

_So that is why she's so, flirty. My sister must've done a number on her confidence… And Celestia's mane, this pegasus can change her mood quickly._

"…But anyway," the Changeling in disguise continued. "It's not that important. I just want a quiet day."

Raisin nodded. "I don't want to sound pushy, but when are you moving out?"

Crash frowned, and looked at Cinnamon quizzically. Her face spoke more words than any sentence could.

Cinnamon shrugged. "She'll move out when she can afford some pony's rent. For now she can stay here." This caused a small smile to creep onto the blue Pegasus' face.

"Well, she can't sleep in my room… Not to be rude, I just have sleeping problems." Raisin lied.

"I could always sleep in Cinnamon's room."

The reddish brown Pegasus was about to interject, when Raisin interrupted him. "That's an excellent idea, Crash."

"So it's settled then. I'll sleep on the other side of Cinnamon's bed."

Raisin Rum winked at Cinnamon using the eye Crash couldn't see. Cinnamon just rolled his eyes and muttered: "I guess so…"

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Changeling**

**Sorry about the MASSIVE delay in uploading chapters guys, I had logistical, technical and personal problems to deal with. They're all hopefully fixed now and shouldn't delay the story any longer.**

**Please review, CONSTRUCTIVE criticism welcome.**

**Edited by BlackRoseRaven, story is my original creation.**

* * *

Cinnamon leant on the frame of the door leading to the en suite, waiting for Cloud Crash to get out of the shower. "You know, Crash, you're usually naked anyway, what diff-"

He heard an exasperated sigh seep through the door. "It makes all the difference, Dusty-" He didn't mind when Crash or Rummy called him Dusty, it was his nickname after all, "-It's incredibly impolite and quite frankly rude to walk in on a pony having a shower or getting changed. Just wait your turn."

It was his turn to sigh, and he talked to himself in a heightened voice, so Crash would hear it in the shower. "Yeah, I have to wait to use my own shower, figures."

"Well, you are supposed to be polite to the guest!" Shouted back the blue Pegasus through the door.

He rolled his eyes and sat on the bed, waiting for her to get out.

* * *

Crash walked out of the shower, one towel covering her flank and another wrapped around her mane to dry. "Nice daydream, Cinnie?"

Cinnamon jumped from his position on the bed and (with some help from his wings) landed on the other side of the room, next to Cloud Crash, who had trotted over to the body length mirror identical to the one in Rummy's room. "Sorry, must've zoned out while I was waiting. I was waitin-"

"Yes yes, a long time, I know. Sorry." Said the blue Pegasus, before lowering her voice. "I need to clean this body and my original, remember, twice as much pony."

He sat down next to her, confused. "If you only use one most the time, then why..?"

She sat down next to him, after taking off her flank towel. "It's difficult to explain, there's this, itch or sweat, you get from wearing a pony too long. It's not really there; it's mainly psychological but also a little magical. A shower helps."

Cinnamon nodded. "Speaking of magic, how's feeding at the tavern been?"

She nodded slowly as she spoke with eyes closed while she dried her mane, seeming like she was in pleasure. "It's been easier than I thought; alcohol is very good at making ponies let out their emotions, although a lot of them taste bad. Like depression."

The brown stallion nodded in agreement. "It's what you get for opening a tavern so close to Ponyville and Canterlot: a lot of rejects pass through here onto their way to Phillydelphia and Manehattan to live in the central city or find jobs."

The mare finished drying her mane and chucked the next damp towel into the basket of dirty clothes in the corner of the room, mainly full of her clothes. "Shame pony society has so many rejects, whose cutie marks and whose destinies are to be failures."

The real pony shook his head. "That's not true, the 'failures' in pony society are those who fight their true calling, wanting to do something that isn't themselves or being forced to do it by their parents. That's the real shame. When ponies don't recognise the pony they truly are."

The blue mare made eye contact with him. "Do you think of me as a pony?"

He nodded. "Of course, I wouldn't let you in my bed otherwise."

She took a moment to stare into space, and decided that it was probably best to subtlety change the subject, and pulled the first question from her mind: "what about a gryphon?"

"Ah… eh?" He queried, or so it appeared.

"If there was a gryphon, like-" She posed, "-really good looking, would you let her 'in your bed'?"

He was dumbfounded. "Are you asking me if I'd sleep with a gryphon..?"

She laughed and rolled from her plot onto her back. "Oh, I don't know…" She walked over to him and hugged him. "Thank you." She muttered quietly, before walking towards the door.

He turned around, confused by her actions but unable to resist asking. "Do you want me to accompany you? Downstairs, that is." _Well, I screwed that question up_.

She thought about it. _Ginger might be downstairs…_ "No, I'll be fine Dusty. Besides, you wanted to use the bathroom, didn't you? Or did you just want to see me in the shower wet?" She winked and slipped out of the door, closing it before he could reply.

"Bu-What-Wait-I never… buck sake," blurted Cinnamon. "Celestia damn my stupid mouth…"

* * *

After Cinnamon freshened up in the en suite, he moved over to his not-work desk next to his mirror and sat down, tapping a hoof on the table.

_I haven't really given a valid excuse for Cloud Crash being here, and when Uncle comes back from his visit to Canterlot, he's gonna flip! I'm surprised Raisin took it this well._

He pondered there, thinking of different possibilities he could cover with Crash. He almost didn't hear the large blue Pegasus enter the room. "'Sup, Cinnamon?"

Cinnamon leapt up in surprise for the second time that morning. "Celestia's mane, Storm! You scared me!"

He chuckled deeply. "Ah, shucks. Anyway, that nice lookin' mare's downstairs, damn she looks nice all ruffled u-"

"Shut up, Storm. She's a friend of mine. Besides, she looks like she could be your sister, being a blue Pegasus and all."

"Yeah, I guess that'd look a little freaky. And Celestia, Cinnamon, why you grumpy all of a sudden?"

"It's nothing massive, Storm." He paused. "I promised Crash - the 'nice lookin'' Pegasus downstairs - I'd find her a job and her own place. It's been a week and I haven't even started!" He lied. He had made no such promise, but he did expect all of those things to happen.

"Hmm, well, we recently lost Calm Skies on the Ponyville-Coltsdale joint weather team - she's moving up in the world, good for her - and we need another pony to work part time. I could drop a good word to Rainbow Dash about her."

Cinnamon stared intensely at him. "You… know an Element of Harmony?"

"Of course, bro, I work the weather team. Anyway, want me to help?" The near-gargantuan blue Pegasus extended a hoof and gazed at Cinnamon with his light blue eyes.

The Pegasus brohoofed his friend and straightened his posture. "Yeah bro, cheers. I owe you one."

"Gimmie a date with that Pegasus?"

"Eat hay, Storm."

"Cinnamon, young one, we all eat hay."

* * *

Ginger had walked in the front door of the tavern to see Cloud Crash sitting at the usual table, tapping her hooves on the floor and drinking her signature milky coffee. "I see you haven't styled your mane today-"

"Oh shut it, you persistent little bitc-"

At that moment, both Cinnamon Dust and Storm Chaser descended the stairs. _Oh thank you Cinnie, any longer and I'd have ripped her throat out with my bare hooves_.

Storm, oblivious to the situation, nodded politely at the girls individually as he trotted out. "Ginger, Crash."

Cinnamon sat next to Crash, who felt like a gryphon in the need for a hunt. "I have good news for you, Crash: I got you a job on the weather team - if you want it, that is."

Crash, forgetting all spite and anger, turned to Cinnamon, who was sitting much closer than usual. "Really?" That's great! Thank you so much!" She hugged him tightly. "What would I be doing?"

He shrugged. "Mainly part time stuff, filling in for ponies who aren't there, busting clouds, moving stuff. You're er, certified for that, right?"

_I guess that's his way of asking me if Changelings can do that_. "Yeah, of course!"

They both realised simultaneously that they were still tightly embraced. Cinnamon and Crash gingerly separated themselves from each other whilst Ginger watched intently.

* * *

"So, when would I move out?" Asked Cloud, slight disappointment in her voice.

Cinnamon shrugged. They were back in his, or rather; their, room. "I don't know. You could stay here for as long as you need, really."

"Oh, I wouldn't want to overstay my welcome. Besides, my own house would give me space to be… well… myself."

"Ah, I understand." Cinnamon paused. "You'd stay in Coltsdale right? I mean, you could go to Ponyvil-"

"Of course I'd stay in Coltsdale! After all, you're here." With that, Cloud smiled, and it spread infectiously to Cinnamon. "I'm gonna style my mane and preen my wings now, if you don't mind."

He nodded. "Go ahead, I'll have some coffee."

* * *

He trotted down the stairs with drive. _Coffee, coffee, coffee…_ With every step he tapped out a musical beat. When he finally reached the coffee pot, he was waving his tail gently to the imaginary beat playing in his head.

"Why are you in a good mood, Cinnamon?" Queried the orange mare.

"I dunno, today is a good day..? Live life, Ginge."

She rolled her eyes cynically. "Really? Is today a good day because of Cloud..?"

He just shrugged and huffed a 'meh'ish sound.

"Do you like her?"

"She's a good friend. Nothing more and nothing less." He said as he finished making his coffee.

"I hope so, Cinnamon. For your sake."

* * *

**Thank you for reading! Please review! Favourite and follow if you still enjoy! Again, sorry about the delay :')**


	5. Chapter 5

**Changelings**

**Hey guys! New Chapter! Really speedy this time!**

**Er, read it!**

* * *

"Well, Storm, I'm in a bit of a hay net." Cinnamon was half illuminated by the gas lamp that hung above his head, making his dusty coat gleam and light-grey mane shimmer gently.

"Cinnamon, when was the last bloody time anyone used the expression 'Hay Net'? It was probably when we still ate out of hay nets." Storm's larger figure meant the light stopped just before the neck. It reminded Cinnamon of interrogations in movies, and it made him feel uncomfortable.

"Shut up Storm, for Celestia's sake." Cinnamon blurted in anger, lurching forward on his stool and making the blue Pegasus lean back on his.

"Sorry bro… You were saying?"

"Right, well… I received a letter by courier this morning sent from Uncle in Manehattan…" Cinnamon trailed off.

"And..?"

"He is returning tonight, for the poker night."

"He's really abandoning business for poker?"

"Uncle said business in Manehattan was going easier and faster than expected… he wrote quite a lot in one letter."

Storm leaned on the circular table with his front legs. "Why don't you call him by his real name?"

Cinnamon leaned back on his stool, and looked at the lamp above the soon-to-be poker table. "Only Ginger can call him by his real name. He didn't really treat his stepcolts and filly equally…"

Storm shook his head, "Ah well, nothing can change the past…" There was an empty silence between the two stallions, filled only by Cinnamon's irksome tapping.

The brown stallion decided to speak. "I think the kegs need mo-"

"Do you love her?"

"-re cide… What?" Cinnamon looked dumbfounded. More dumbfounded than usual, at least.

Storm spoke louder and clearer. "Do you love her?"

Cinnamon thought. "Ginger? She's a bit-"

"No you stupid 'tard: I'm talking about Crash." Cinnamon froze. "Cloud Crash if you need any more bloody help with your slo-"

"That's enough, Storm."

There was a silence between the two. Even the constant tapping had ended. "Sorry…" That word cut through the silence like a cleaver, but left only silence in its wake.

That was, until Cinnamon spoke. "That's quite alright Storm, you meant no harm by it."

"…Well? She sleeps in your house, your home, your bed, even. She flirts with you constantly and you stare like a struck mule and…" He trailed off.

"Why are you asking me?"

"Because I'm worried, Cinnie. I'm worried you've gone off and fallen in love with some stranger, and now you're hooked on that nectar. I'm worried that your step-father is going to kick her out and you're going to crumple up on the inside. I'm worried that you'll stop doing everything and run off after this mare and that life'll just end for you. Love hurts, Cinnie, and I don't want it to hurt you."

For the third time, there was silence.

"Does she really flirt that much?"

"Oh for buck sake Cinnamon Dust, you've gone off and fallen in love with some dreamy mare!"

"That's bullshit!"

"Dude! Stick to the PC swearwords!" For the fourth time, there was silence. Storm continued: "Where the hay even is she?"

Cinnamon sneered, the first time he had moved his frozen face in quite a while. "How am I supposed to know? Drinking ponies' blood? Turning ponies into zomponies? Stealing candy fro-"

"Okay, I get the picture, you don't know. And you're also upset. Sorry. But I felt like I needed to ask…"

"I need a drink…" Muttered Cinnamon and he dragged himself towards the kegs.

"Mate, no booze."

"Oh for buck sake…"

* * *

Cinnamon sat on the stool, cards in hoof and wings perched forward, covering his sides and preventing prying eyes from peeking at his precious hand. "Why, in the name of Celestia, is it called a 'Hand'? I mean, what even is a hand?"

"It's Poker, Cinnie, none of it makes sense," chimed Uncle, merely to annoy him.

"Well, I was just saying…"

Cinnamon was, to be as accurate as possible, in massive bucking trouble with Uncle; who had not been impressed with a strange blue mare residing in Cinnamon's bed with Cinnamon next to her.

Uncle slung a few chips to the centre with a quick flick of the wrist, knocking over the neatly stacked piles of chips in the middle, much to the dismay of Cinnamon and the other four ponies playing. "So, Cinnie," grumbled Uncle, in a raised voice, "when is Lash leaving my bloody tavern?"

Cinnamon sighed and leaned backwards, just avoiding falling over. Sitting opposite each other didn't help ease the conversation, and the surrounding silent ponies didn't feel like interrupting. "It's Crash, Uncle. Crash."

"That doesn't answer my question, lad."

It was Cinnamon's turn to bet, and he was feeling bolder because of it. "Meeting your twenty-five bits…" He flicked a green chip with his hoof, much like Uncle. "And raising you another seventy-five."

Uncle looked angrily at Cinnamon. "You still haven't answered my question."

The brown stallion responded with silence.

"Well…" murmured Uncle, one again. He changed topic. "You're feeling cocky with your bits, good hand?"

This was, of course, a stupid question to ask your opponent in poker. Cinnamon just shrugged and exhaled some sort of sound. He was bluffing, of course, but he knew Uncle was as well. _Two pair is as much as my own plot's worth, but it's better than nothing_.

By this time, all but three had folded this round: Cinnamon, Uncle and Storm. Storm, being adjacent to Cinnamon, had his turn to bet. "I, ah, er…"

Storm turned to Cinnamon, who met his glance. _Storm, just drop this, for me…_

Storm couldn't read minds, as far as Cinnamon was aware, but understood his friend on a level deeper than thought. "I fold."

Uncle chuckled hoarsely, trying to boost his own morale. "Well, a little duel then Cinnie."

Cinnamon grunted once again.

Uncle's face turned sour and bitter. "Well, alright then… I meet your bet and raise another one-hundred."

"I meet and raise fifty." Replied Cinnamon, with another flick of the wrist.

"I meet and raise two-hundred."

"Meet and raise two-fifty." By now, they were both a little low, and the rainbow-coloured pile in the centre was titanic.

Uncle thought for a moment. "Meet and raise three-seven-five."

Cinnamon swore rather loudly. _I can't afford this, but he owns a bucking tavern…_ "If I lose, Crash moves to her own room." _He's bluffing, Uncle's got to be bluffing…_

"If you lose, Crash moves out."

"Pfft, Buck that!"

"Are you sure you want to fold? That's a lot of money, Cinnie…"

_Ah buck, he's got to be bluffing, he can't have good cards that many times in a row.._. "Fine. If I lose, Crash moves out."

They laid their cards simultaneously.

"Two Pair," they both said.

Cinnamon sighed in relief. "I guess we split the pot… and Crash stays."

Uncle shook his head. "Your highest pair is two tens. Mine is two kings. I want Crash out in three days." He smiled, for the first and only time that night.

* * *

"Cinnie, wait up!"

"What the hay is it, Storm?"

Storm trotted up to meet Cinnamon, who had just stormed out of the tavern. "Me and you, some Canterlot clubs and – rather hopefully – some Canterlot mares. What'd'ya say? I heard their Unicorn mares know some craz-"

"I thought you were angry at me?"

"Err, if I remember, you were angry at me…"

"Oh, right. Well, thanks for what you did for me back there, I guess."

"It was no problem. Now, how about that club scene?"

"How the hell would we get in? They're Canterlot clubs, Storm."

"Trust me, Cinnie, I know some very important ponies: proper V. on the scene, they'll get us in no time."

"Ah, why the hay not."

* * *

After a few hours, a lot of dancing to dubstep, and much alcohol, Cinnamon was severely wasted. He, Storm, and two relatively unknown mares were lit only by strobe and neon lights.

Storm spoke, almost entirely sober: "Ladies, I present to you the Cinnamon challenge: whoever can hold Cinnamon in their mouth for the longest gets the rest of the night's drinks paid for!"

The two Unicorn mares hanging tipsily off of his neck moved over to half carry, half drag Cinnamon from his chair and onto some mattress in some apartment somewhere. _Lucky drunkard_…

Storm turned his attention back to his drink, wishing he'd kept one of identical twins. Identical except for Cutie Mark at least: one had a mark which Storm could only presume was a stripper's pole and the other he didn't really pay attention to: the former had a nicer plot.

He downed his drink in one. "Another Gryphon Chariot Bomb* please." _Thank Celestia Rainbow Dash is paying for this…_

The bartender gave him a querying look before speaking. "What was up with your mate?" Even though he tried speaking informally, it was obvious he was from the nicer part of Canterlot.

"He fell in love with some mare… it was never going to work so I got him blasted and laid."

"Well that's… fair enough. Here's your drink, sir."

"Cheers." He downed it again. "Hey… Is it true what they say about Canterlot Unicorns?"

"Oh yeah… Definitely."

"Well buck…" He got up and tossed some bits on the bar. "I need to find myself some."

***Pony equivalent of an Irish Car Bomb cocktail**

* * *

**Thank you for reading, this is my first chapter fully written after my long gap, so it may be fairly different from the others.**

**Please review!**


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